KHR Week Drabbles
by florienna
Summary: A collection of drabbles for KHR. 1) Sawada Tsunayoshi, Nanimori High's unofficial flower deliverer and everyone's sweetheart, has more magic in his green thumb than he realises. 2) Tsuna and Hibari are angels who are the unlikeliest choice of partners, let alone childhood friends.
1. Day 1

Author's notes: This work is a collection of ficlets for KHR Week on Tumblr.

Day 1 || Rain: "It's not about what you should do, it's about what you want to do."

Option A: Favourite character - Sawada Tsunayoshi  
Option B: Favourite minor character

I chose option A with Tsuna as my favourite character. This is a crossover with the manga Silver Diamond. If this was a full story then Yamamoto would be Narushige and Gokudera would be Touji. I had to change some details and speech to make it fit into one chapter nicely. I also wrote this in one day (otherwise it feels like cheating!) so it's a bit rushed. Enjoy!

...

It was his last bullet and his weapon was at its limit.

The parched winds lashed at Reborn and billowed his trench coat. He didn't stir. He was a statue of practiced stillness, arms lifted, rifle unwavering. His eyes were piercing to beyond the desert, beyond the dips and falls of ashy sands, beyond to where the moon shone more benevolent. Its pearly light caressed the unblemished cheek of the prince exposed by the castle window. It was miles and miles away from where Reborn stood but he could see with cruel clarity. He always could see beyond what the mindless masses could.

This was treason and a death sentence twisted into one but it was alright, because Reborn was screwed anyway. The poison needed to be culled for the kingdom to heal, if such a greenless wasteland could even recover.

His fingers tightened on the trigger.

The bullet flew.

The prince turned his head. Their gazes connected. Reborn swore as the prince's servant stepped from behind, caging the prince, hands slithering into the motions of spellcasting like pulling strings. A rumble rose louder than a dozen stallions cracking their hooves. A whirlwind of dizziness sucked the gulp from Reborn's throat and the night air began to distort in swirls, swirling, swirling. It chained his wrists and ankles and dragged Reborn in even as his fingertips began to fade.

The prince smiled.

...

Tsuna buried his nose in the bouquet of flowers and smiled. Baby pink roses and freesias, boldened by a splash of snapdragons and humbled by a few feathery brushes of greenbells. The arrangement was a touch too lopsided to be called professional but Tsuna didn't mind, because people liked to call his bouquets 'charming' and 'sweet' and 'brightens my day, it really does' while looking at his face with a dusty blush.

He slid open the staffroom door. His face was still nestled in the bouquets because it was easier than looking over at the girls who were helping with afterschool duties. Where his lips brushed petals, they unfurled to touch closer.

"Tsuna," Mrs Nakamura greeted. She had set aside her Maths class marking as soon as Tsuna had entered. "Today's flowers are as beautiful as usual."

Tsuna shuffled and handed the bouquet over like a newborn child. They had, after all, blossomed under his love, his summer afternoon companions. He asked, "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not," came the unhesitant answer and Tsuna lifted his gaze to her motherly smile. She was a beauty both in her stunning French looks and her open heart that had won over half of the school delinquents. "I should be the one asking if _you_ mind. Isn't it tough delivering all these flowers to teachers and students every day? You don't even charge us as much as you should!"

Ears were swivelled, listening to the conversation despite themselves. That was Mr Tanaka by the photocopier, a demon in the classroom who doted on his granddaughter like a fool. There was Miss Sato sipping her tea, a petite woman who wore pastel cardigans and had spent one early morning teaching Tsuna the infinite ways to slam a man to the ground. Tsuna didn't think he had ever seen rumoured ex-gangster Mr Takashi so terrified, or with eyes that diluted. Mr Takashi was hovering now near her desk with a wonky stack of papers and a slow-blooming love in his eyes.

Being the school's unofficial flower deliverer had shown sides to people Tsuna would have never dreamed of before. Maybe it was the captivating life in the flowers that loosened their personalities before Tsuna.

"I don't mind," Tsuna smiled, unknowingly charming and sweet and brightening the day of everyone in the staffroom. "I have more flowers in my garden than I know what to do with."

The girls huddled together and giggled, darting shy glances at Tsuna. His cheeks warmed and he ducked his head, mumbling about cooking dinner and needing to head back home before rushing out of the room.

A swell of chatter was muffled just as Tsuna slid the doors back closed. He could hear demands from the girls on his name, which class he was in, why he was giving a woman twice his age flowers. Tsuna hovered in amusement despite himself as Mrs Nakamura whipped them with her tongue for 'inappropriate comments at school' but when the conversation ebbed into whether he had a girlfriend, Tsuna walked away.

Wherever Tsuna walked, heads turned. Girls fiddled with their sleeves. Boys uncrossed their legs and grinned. As Tsuna passed the baseball pitch in front of the school, after school practice grinded to a halt by half of the players tossing Tsuna good natured yells like _bye Tsuna_ and _see you Tsuna!_ and _Sawada, wanna bring me some flowers too? Ow, don't hit me Yato! My girlfriend won't mind, you idiot!_

He wasn't even carrying flowers at the moment. Tsuna didn't know why they were paying him so much attention.

The truth was, Tsuna reflected as he began walking home in the golden sunshine streets, was that he was perpetually braced on the edge for his classmates to wake up one morning and think _hey, Tsuna's pretty pathetic actually isn't he?_ and for the cold shoulders and hot fists to come back.

The truth was that for too much of Tsuna's childhood he had been bullied as useless Tsuna, as no-good Tsuna, as the crybaby kid with embarrassing grades and not a single coordinated bone in his body. He had been beaten and bruised until his foster grandfather had pulled him out of the last school term for a summer roadtrip, just the two of them and limitless roads and rocky cliffs and learning how to swing a punch like his life depended on it.

Giotto Sawada could have been a mafia boss. He had long passed away but with all the house bills mysteriously paid by shadowy contacts and Tsuna's bank account mysteriously bursting with enough money for an obscure billionaire, Tsuna thought of his grandfather's scarred knuckles and hidden guns and on sleepless nights, wondered.

The point was, Tsuna thought as he knelt at his doorstep and slipped off his school shoes in favour of garden sandals, the point was that after that summer he had returned to school in autumn and suddenly, he was left alone. Whispers snaked in his wake of his hardened muscles and straighter back and how sometimes, when the light hit his eyes a certain way, he looked like another being with molten lead for veins.

Then his grandfather passed away five years ago, then his mother two years ago and Tsuna started to deliver the flowers in his jungle of a garden so he wouldn't have to think about the empty rooms in the house so much. Slowly, surely, the gap between him and his classmates gaped shut and now they flocked to him like hummingbirds to nectar.

Tsuna unhooked the garden hose and swivelled the tap until a miniature rainfall befell his garden plants under his palms. Ferns and fuchsias, lillies and lilacs, daisies and delilahs. Azures, magnetas, merigolds and greens and greens and greens. Vines wrapped around roots that burrowed as deep as the tree trunks spiralled up into the drifting white clouds.

Tsuna's mother had a talent for growing plants. This garden was more like a jungle, overflowing from the brims of the brick walls and never-ending no matter how many flowers Tsuna trimmed with whispered apologies.

A well-told story flashed in Tsuna's mind. Giotto Sawada discovering Tsuna's mother for the first time unconscious in his garden, her then long hair entwined with the grass and daisies, a babe nestled at her side.

Something rustled in the distance and Tsuna spun around with baited breath. It sounded like something had fallen. He took a step, then another, until he was creeping along the cobbles stones leading along the side of his house to the back garden. When he turned the corner, Tsuna froze.

In the embrace of a bed of heathers, a man lay with closed eyes in Tsuna's garden. Black hair curled at his cheeks and framed his eyelashes, a sharp contrast against his deathly white skin. He looked as painfully beautiful as dangerous like a venomous flower.

The hosepipe slid from Tsuna's slack fingers and thumped to the grass.

The man's eyes snapped open and he was moving like an unleashed storm, petals whirling as Tsuna was grabbed by the wrist and slammed to the ground with bruising force. He gasped and coughed and when he opened his eyes again, the butt of a long gnarled stick was digging ruthlessly into his forehead.

"What the hell?" Tsuna squeezed out with fire for lungs. "What is your problem?!"

A series of rapid clicks juttered one after the other and Tsuna saw the man pulling a trigger, realised the stick was some sort of gun, realised the bullets must be empty but this wild eyed stranger was _trying to kill him._

"No— " was all Tsuna could think to say, the _please_ and _why_ and _Oh God_ on the cusp of his tongue, and the back of his fingers brushed the man's gun. Something prickled and crackled. The man jerked backwards, letting the gun go. The withered bark began to sprout spring green saplings that reached up, that thickened to branches, that shot down into the soil even as its trunk spiralled higher and higher.

Tsuna was still on the ground, his arms braced to raise him up and the man still straddling his legs. Both of them, though, had their heads turned to stare at the newly grown tree in Tsuna's backyard. Plump fruits hung from its leaves in a shade of purple Tsuna had never seen before.

"What," Tsuna swallowed in one big gulp. "What was that? The tree, did the tree just grow? What's going on?!"

"It can't be," the man whispered, pinning Tsuna with his wide eyes. "You're…the Sanome?"

"Who the hell is that?" Tsuna asked just a shade shy of hysterical. "My name's Tsuna. Who the hell is this Sanome? Hey!" The man wasn't listening, staring at Tsuna like the world had started revolving in a different direction. Tsuna felt the weight of his legs being pressed down and his heart in his ribcage. His grandfather's ghost was in his ear murmuring about groin kicks and iron resolves. Tsuna glared and it was a chilling affair. "Can you get off me? I don't want my flowers getting ruined."

Luckily for the man's privates, he slowly lifted himself up. Tsuna followed suit with all his muscles coiled and thrumming.

"Flowers…?" the man asked and then stared at the crumpled heathers on his shoulders with a baffling amount of bafflement.

Tsuna should put his grandfather's tutelage to good practise. He should call the police. He should watch this intruder be cuffed and shoved in the back of a police car and then cook dinner, so he could go to bed on time and wake up early to deliver Kyoko's free-of-charge daily roses on his way to class. He had homework to do and a perfectly normal high school life mapped out for him.

Tsuna thought of his grandfather adopting a strange unconscious woman in strange clothes with no questions or no conditions for his kindness.

He went inside to the kitchen. When he returned with a glass of water balancing in his hand, the man was cradling a daisy in his palm with raw reverence.

"Here," Tsuna said and pressed the glass into the man's hands before he changed his mind. "I don't know what's going on, but you should calm down first. Drink some water."

"Water," the man said and Tsuna's heart broke at the way the man's shoulders tightened. "You have water, and plants, and the sky is blue here. Is this an enchantment— a dream?"

"No," Tsuna said, and then more firmly. "No. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to drink your water, as much as you'd like, and then we're going to go inside and have a long talk about everything. By the way, what's your name?"

"Reborn," and with that much hope dawning in eyes that weary, Tsuna knew he had made the right decision. "My name is Reborn."


	2. Day 2

Author's notes: August 16th - Day 2 || Sky: "My pride is you."

Option A: Favourite relationship(s)  
Option B: Favourite pair → Tsuna and Hibari

I chose option B! This is a crossover with the manga Asterisk. I thought this would be easier to write than yesterday's ficlet but it was actually much harder. Maybe it's because the personalities of Kio and Fraw are really different to Tsuna and Hibari.

Anyway Tsuna and Hibari are my favourite platonic pair in KHR and this is 100% because of cywscross' fic To That Faraway Sky.

...

"Sorry, do you mind if I— it's just an insect in your hair, I'll get it for you—"

Tsuna struck his hand at the woman's neck. He grabbed the black spirit lurking at her back and pulled it to his side. He smiled apologetically at the woman.

"It was just a small bee, it flew away. Sorry about that."

"Oh no," the woman shook her head. She hoisted her handbag over her shoulder and stood from the park bench. "Thanks for getting rid of it. I better head off then, thanks for the chat!"

Tsuna waved until she had left before dropping his grin. Invisible to human eyes, manfis were evil spirits who possessed the remains of deceased souls and harmed living people. He had one in his grasp now.

"Stop growling," he murmured, slamming the manfis in a chokehold so they were chest to chest. "I'm going to release you now."

Tsuna exhaled and his breath of air shaped into one of his feathers between his fingers. He jabbed the sharp point into the spirit's arm. A black shadow shot from the wound, swirling into a shrieking mass that slithered away quicker than a snake. Tsuna grabbed the manfis before it could escape and crushed it in his tight fist.

The spirit in his arms glowed a pearly white as it was purified, sketching the silvery outlines of a school shirt, a messy fringe, a bruised neck. Suicide perhaps, or murder by strangling. Tsuna's heart clenched even as he cupped the spirit's cheek.

"You're still quite young," he said gently. "I hope next time you'll get to do the things you couldn't do in this life. You can see it right? Just go towards that light."

Now that the spirit had been purified, it could move on from being tied to the human realm. It didn't matter if Tsuna got bruised or battered or how dangerous it was to fight the manfis. It was all worth it for the smile on the purified spirits' faces as they flared up to the sky like a rising shooting star.

Tsuna craned his neck and traced the journey with his eyes. Then he caught a middle aged couple darting glances at him as they walked past, whispering. He flushed. He was so caught up in saving the spirit, he had forgotten to freeze time. Now the passerbys in the park must think he's a weirdo, or report him to the police _again_. Tsuna scrambled to his feet but his vision swam and tilted—

"Watch out!"

...

The tailor's hall doors swung open and all eyes spun to the customer. Knee high combat boots, tight trousers, tight T-shirt—all in the darkest shade of black that only highlighted the man's gunmetal wings. They were poised still behind his back, the perfect picture of control.

"Lord Hibari," the head tailor greeted from a respectable distance. Work had come to a halt as everyone gazed at Hibari with shining eyes. The supervisors should have been telling them off. The supervisors had dropped their needles and were clutching fabrics to their chests. "Congratulations to your promotion as one of the Seven. The coat is ready and we made it as you requested but…is this thin material really alright?"

Hibari folded the coat, rubbed the thin weaves between his fingers. He imagined, and then coolly said, "It's fine."

His lips curved up to himself as he turned on his heel and stalked out.

Five minutes later, the administration officer Basil manoeuvred his tower of paperwork to nudge open the tailor's hall doors. "Hey, I have the records of silk production you guys requested, and did Lord Hibari really ask you guys to make a coat from his feathers….Hello?" He finally dumped the papers onto a free table and looked around. "Why are is everyone's faces so red? What on earth happened in here?!"

...

"Hibari."

Hibari's only acknowledgement was a slight turn of head.

"Won't you please stay a little while longer? I'd like to hear more about Tsuna."

Behind him Lord Giotto smiled benevolently. With draping robes and a waterfall of hair as golden as his wings, the head of the Seven Angels was the highest ranked angel and Hibari's direct superior. Hibari turned fully to cut Giotto with a scowl that put glaciers to shame.

"You've been throwing jobs my way and interfering from letting me return to Tsuna all day," Hibari said in quiet menace, too low for the angels whispering reverently at their presence in the grassy fields to hear.

"So you caught on," Giotto laughed unapologetically and the whispers crescendoed. There was an increasingly high risk of someone fainting. "That child was the cutest of all my pupils. To think that he fought something so terrible that his coat was ripped beyond regeneration…Can you blame me for worrying?"

"He's too reckless." Hibari dug his nails into his palms.

"That's why you're there to protect him. Didn't you work hard just for that?"

Hibari glared.

"I don't know why he's so reluctant but please tell him to show up here once in a while," Giotto carried on gracefully, unperturbed by Hibari's stony silence. Hibari thought of the way Tsuna's nose scrunched up whenever Giotto pounced on him with a hug or his silent plea for rescue when Giotto dragged him for afternoon tea. Hibari snorted to himself. He knew perfectly well why Tsuna didn't want to come back to the angels' world, but it suited Hibari to have Tsuna to himself.

"Lord Hibari," Basil scolded as he strode up to them from the tailor's hall. He tucked his silky hair behind one ear as he carried on, "The next time you need something from the clothing office, please tell an officer to go! The workers are useless now! Oh, and give these to Tsuna please."

Before Hibari could do more than bare his teeth at Basil, a hefty pouch was pushed into his hands. He felt the texture of soft spheres inside thick canvas and knew in a heartbeat what lay inside. Hibari's face was a stone portrait as he callously yanked open the drawstring.

"Nono fruit," Basil said, unnecessarily. "They're the first of the season, harvested yesterday."

Hibari stared at the pouch before nodding curtly and leaving without a word. Of all angels, Hibari was the last one who needed to be told what nono fruit were.

In that moment he was a young angel of ten years again, with soggy paper for lungs and an invisible boulder crushing his chest. He was coughing, tossing, turning, and then Tsuna was tumbling into his sickbay window with bruised knees and a cloth of handpicked nono fruits in his scratched hands.

They, too, were the first of the season. Tsuna insisted with a too bright laugh that he hadn't gone to the red mountain where they ripened quicker. Hibari simply looked at the dirt beneath his nails and let the sugary nectars soothe his tongue so he could pretend there wasn't a sweetness spreading in his heart.

They were Tsuna's favourite food and if they had become Hibari's favourite too, well, no one needed to know.

...

"That was admirably done," the person who had caught Tsuna mid-fall was saying. "But you should look after yourself better. Wait, is that Hibari's coat you're wearing?"

"He forced me to wear his while my coat is getting fixed—wait, Lord Ugetsu?" Tsuna exclaimed. Even as he was carefully guided into sitting back onto the park bench, Tsuna's attention was caught by the fresh scar coiling up Ugestu's otherwise unturbulent face. "What happened to your face? Why is one of the Seven down here in the human world?"

The light pooled in Ugestu's oceanic eyes as he said, "I've already retired from the Seven."

A boy in mismatched socks ran past the bench, hollering and whooping as he kicked his football. Tsuna opened and closed his mouth a few times. "What?!"

"This injury," Ugestu said unabashedly, as if he were talking about the jungle climbing frame or the ice cream van. "It was from a mantis, a powerful one. It won't heal no matter what I do. I told the archangel that since I've already fulfilled my duty, I'd like to spend my days travelling alone. Do not worry Tsuna. I have made my peace."

Tsuna couldn't help but worry. Worry was all that made his heart beat on some days. Worry for the spirits, worry for the angels, worry that he would one day fail to protect those in need. A companionable silence blanketed them both broken only by the melody of birdsong and children chattering in the play area.

He would worry, but Tsuna would manage. "So…someone must have been promoted to the Seven to fill your place—"

Arms wrapped Tsuna from behind and Hibari's voice said sharply, "Tsuna, I'm back."

"Hibari—what are you—let go of me!" Tsuna yelped, squirming valiantly yet unable to break free of Hibari's iron grip. It was easy to forget sometimes the monstrous strength Hibari's slim body could unleash. To Tsuna's annoyance, Hibari was silent.

"Tsuna," Ugestu said slowly. He looked at Hibari with an uncharacteristically smooth expression before he shook his head and smiled at Tsuna. "My successor hasn't been appointed yet. Well, your job is important but you should rest in the angel's world every now and again. Giotto says he misses you dearly."

"I bet he does," Tsuna muttered and Ugestsu laughed as he walked away.

"Tsuna," Hibari said, finally letting him go. A demand for Tsuna's attention. "I bought you your coat."

"Wait," Tsuna interrupted. He fumbled with Hibari's black leather coat, slipping it from his shoulder to drape it over Hibari's instead with a grin. "It really does suit you better."

Anyone else would have been bitten with Hibari's feathers for touching him, if not his words. Hibari simply rearranged his coat better with a practised apathy before manhandling Tsuna to help put on his new coat. With its zipper and short length, it was much easier for Tsuna to fight in than Hibari's billowing coat, but…

"Isn't this a bit too thin?" Tsuna asked hesitantly. A breeze made the bare oak trees sigh and Tsuna huddled in on himself with a shiver.

Hibari narrowed his eyes and Tsuna slowly edged away from him. He said dangerously calmly, "That's because you don't want to show your wings. If you're cold, you can warm yourself with your wings. So why don't you?"

Tsuna flinched and looked down at his boots. They were getting scruffy from too many roundhouse kicks. Maybe he should talk to Basil about regenerative combat shoes.

"Tsuna."

"My wings are…I don't want to show them. When I gained my adult wings, the thing is, no one else has wings that colour. It looks weird on wings," Tsuna mumbled.

Feather tickled his nose and Tsuna was startled into looking up. Hibari was hugging him again, this time from the front with his shimmering silvery-grey wings wrapped around them both. It was a cocoon of living warmth, a protective place where only the two of them existed.

"Don't be so weak," Hibari murmured into Tsuna's hair. "If you won't show your wings, you can use mine when you're cold."

...

"…Okay," Tsuna said quietly and let himself hug Hibari back.

...

Hibari clutched one of Tsuna's stray feathers in his pocket, and thought of heavy secrets and Tsuna's wings the captivating colour of the glowing orange sun.


End file.
